Turning Points
by NightCat-HekaSu
Summary: There are events in everyone's life that shape who they are. These are the stories of five such turning points. Rated light M for adult situations and death.


**Disclaimer: **Anything recognizable in this story belongs to Monkey Punch. I don't make a cent off of this.

**Warnings: **Sexual situations and death.

He was five years old and his grandfather was watching him play with his shining new toy bow and arrow set. It had started out as a simple little toy: plastic bow, suction cup arrow heads, and a cardboard target to shoot at. But, as his grandfather noted with no small measure of pride, nothing seems to stay simple around little Arséne for too long.

"What is he trying to do now?" he heard Arséne's mother ask from behind him. He was pleased to hear a note of amusement in her voice.

"I think he's trying to make a get-away route for his partners," the grandfather said. He pointed to the small troop of stuffed animals behind the boy with little homemade money sacs tied to them. Arséne was busy tying one end of a long string to a tree and the other end to an arrow, all the while assuring his stuffed friends that he wasn't going to let the cops get them. He took careful aim and an arrow was expertly stuck onto the cardboard target. Strung between the tree and the target the string made the perfect escape line for the stuffed partners in crime.

"He certainly has that Lupin ingenuity," his mother said with a smile.

"He may have our ingenuity," Grandfather Lupin said, "but he has your good looks, my dear."

Arséne's mother laughed like she always did when her father-in-law tried to flatter her. Grandfather Lupin watched her drift back into the house before turning his attention back to his grandson.

Apparently, just in the nick of time.

"Arséne! Get down from there!" Grandfather Lupin rushed into the backyard to retrieve Arséne from his ascent up a tree. How he managed to get that far up during the half a second he wasn't watching him was a mystery to even the great Arséne Lupin the First.

"But Grampy!" Arséne wailed as his grandfather plucked him off a branch. "If I don't get up high the evil Sheriff will get me!"

Lupin the First sighed. Ever since he told his grandson the story of Robin Hood a few nights ago, little Arséne seemed to have become obsessed with the legendary thief. Outsmarting the Sheriff of Nottingham (played by a stuffed parrot) and saving the beautiful Maid Marian (as played by a stuff fox) had become Arséne's favourite afternoon pastimes as well. This had also caused the boy to beg his grandfather to teach him how to shoot a bow and arrow, which in turn lead to the purchase of the toy imitations.

"Oh, my dear Arséne," Grandfather Lupin said. "If only the real thing was as romantic as Robin Hood."

The boy looked up at his grandfather with a confused look. "But you met Grandma during a heist!"

The elder Lupin couldn't help but laugh at that. "That's not what I met, Arséne." He kneeled down so that he was eye-level with Arséne. It's about time the boy learned a few harsh truths about the family business. "You know how all the good guys love Robin Hood, even though he's a thief?"

Arséne nodded eagerly.

Lupin hesitated for a second, "In the real world, Arséne, it doesn't work like that. People are scared of thieves, even nice ones like us. That doesn't make them bad people like the Sheriff on Nottingham, but they would run to someone like him when they see someone they're scared of. Even though we're nice people, we are feared. Very few of us ever get to be as loved as Robin Hood."

Arséne stayed silent for a long while. As the bright boy worked through what his grandfather had just told him, Grandfather Lupin couldn't help but feel bad for him. He hadn't meant to burst the child's bubble like that, but he had to be honest with the boy before he took the idea too far, before he got any insane and unrealistic ideas about the family business.

To his surprise, little Arséne's face lit up with a cheerful grin. "I'll just have to be an extra-good thief, then!"

With that the boy bounded off to play with his bow and arrow set some more, leaving his grandfather in a state of surprise. It took him a couple of minutes to realize that he was grinning as well. It took him a couple more minutes to realize that he was proud of his grandson's optimism and determination.

* * *

It was late night in Osaka when she came in with her newest client. This one was upper class, late 40's at most, and seemed to be no stranger to receiving this kind of service. She had also noted the golden wedding when they were in the car negotiating payment. Not that it was any of her business, of course. Just as long as he paid up at the end.

"So, big boy," she said as she slinked her hands up her curvy sides, "think you can handle me?"

The man seemed surprised at the seduction, but pleasantly so. Hitomi Mine prided herself on the techniques that set her apart from the rest. No one else could make men part with as much money as she could, and all it took was a seductive look, the right words, and placing her hands in just the right places.

She spared a quick look through the corner of her eye to the door leading to the room next to her's. There was no light coming from underneath the crack, and it was still locked tight like she had left it. With any luck, her daughter would still be fast asleep.

Turning her attention back to the now drooling john, Hitomi slowly slid onto the bed, her eyes always staying locked with his dazed ones. As she slowly slipped her hands up her leg she could see that she now had the man wrapped around her little finger. She gave a tiny giggle which no doubt sounded sexy and seductive to him, but in reality it was more out of mirth. She couldn't help but find it funny at how easy it is to make men melt and bend to her desires. Flash a little skin, stroke their ego a bit, and they're putty in her hands.

"What are you waiting for, honey?" she purred to the dazed man.

With shaky hands the man fumbled with his belt. _They always go straight for the pants, so predictable_, she thought.

"Here, lover," she said as she slid across the bed towards him. "Allow me."

She was like a cat coming towards him: slinky, confident, and licking her lips. Hitomi could feel the man trembling under her finger as she slid it down his chest when she went down. She may be the one on her knees, but he was at her mercy.

And the best part was, he didn't even know it.

A quick flick of the belt, and a slow undoing of the zipper, then…

"GET AWAY FROM MY MOMMY!"

A brown and pink blur threw itself at the john. The man stumbled backwards as the little girl punched and shoved at him with feral screams.

"Fujiko!" her mother screamed. "Get back here!"

But the little girl wouldn't relent, even as Hitomi tried to grab her. The man fumbled for the door, yelling all the while that she'll never get his business again. Fujiko's flailing and screaming only stopped when the man slammed the door in her face, causing her to fall back into the arms of her mother. Hitomi tried to yell for the man to wait, but he was already long gone.

"Fujiko!" Hitomi spun her around so that the six year old was facing her. "You're supposed to stay in bed when I have a guest in! How did you even undo that lock?"

Her daughter's anger seemed to have evaporated in an instant. It didn't take Hitomi long to realize that it had been all an act, though why Fujiko chose now to show off her acting skills baffled her. With a look of triumph her daughter held up a bobby pin. "I finally learned, Mommy!" she said proudly.

Hitomi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Deep down she was happy that her daughter finally learned something useful rather than just how to apply make-up, but it still didn't change the fact that she had just cost them their next few meals.

"I also learned this!"

Hitomi opened her eyes and gasped in shock. In Fujiko's little hand there was a very expensive leather wallet almost exploding with cash. The little girl beamed at her mother.

"Fuji… how..." Hitomi took the wallet. Inside was the ID of the man who was just in her room. She couldn't believe her eyes. "You did this?"

"Of course!" Fujiko said brightly. "Can I buy another bottle of Chanel with it, pleeeeease?"

Hitomi knew that she should be disciplining her daughter right now. She knew that she really should return this wallet and its contents. She knew that they would have even more cops to deal with if she didn't. Being a prostitute is one thing, but being a thief is something entirely different.

But then again, if her daughter was this talented…

"You deserve it, sweetheart," Hitomi finally said. Her daughter's smile seemed to light up even more, if that was even possible. "But I think we should leave here now, before he comes back…"

* * *

They had just finished supper when he got the call. There was finally a lead on the street gang he had been trying to put behind bars for months. They were going to bust them tonight and they needed the expert there. Namely, they needed him.

Sometimes he worried about how commonplace nights like this are for his family. His wife no longer acted surprised when he had to leave in an instant, and he had to practically pry his son away from him when he leaves. Not because the boy wanted him to stay, but because if Inspector Ryuji Zenigata didn't get his wife to hold their eight year old at bay, then little Koichi just might jump into the squad car and refuse to leave until his father took him with him. He couldn't help but worry that Koichi saw police work as a game from which his father would always come back in one piece. Then again, the boy had already seen him in the hospital twice now, and that still did nothing to diminish his enthusiasm. As much as Ryuji loved the fact that his son idolized him, he couldn't help but worry.

His wife always did say that he worried too much.

He had already kissed his wife goodbye and gathered what he needed for that night. He probably wouldn't be home until the morning if the paperwork is going to be anything like he imagined it would be. As much as he loved seeing the guilty being put to justice, he could do without the mountains of paperwork.

It didn't surprise him in the least when he felt a tug on his trenchcoat.

"Koichi," he said without looking down, "you know that you can't-"

"Don't go, Dad."

That made Ryuji pause. Never before had little Koichi asked him to not go to his job. When he looked down at his son he was even more surprised to see him almost on the verge of tears. Sure, he was an emotional boy, but this was something new.

"Why don't you want me to go?" Ryuji had to ask.

Koichi seemed to struggle with this question, and the more he struggled the more desperate he sounded. "Because… cause… I… just don't go! I have a bad feeling!"

His father raised an eyebrow. "A bad feeling isn't going to stop those crooks, son," he said as he kneeled down in front of his boy. For a moment he felt overwhelmed with just how much Koichi looked like him. The only thing that set them apart, besides age, was his mother's heavily-lashed eyes.

"I know," Koichi said glumly. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Dad."

Ryuji smiled and pulled his son close for a hug. "We Zenigatas are tough, Koichi. We don't go down easily."

Koichi clung to his father. "I know. Just… be careful tonight."

Ryuji gave him one last reassuring squeeze. "Of course, Koichi."

Ryuji hadn't said it then, but what his son had said had put him on edge for the rest of the night. Koichi seemed to have an eerie sixth sense for certain things. One time when he was five they had lost the boy in a large crowd while out shopping. An hour later the panicking parents saw their perfectly calm young son shoving his way through the sea of people towards them. After they had yelled at him for making them worry Ryuji had asked Koichi how he had found them. What had followed was a surprisingly elaborate thought process about what shops his parents may have visited, which ones they would have checked for their son, and whom they may have talked to. Since then Ryuji knew that Koichi had a gift worthy of nurturing and encouragement. Problem-solving and locating missing objects and people seemed to come naturally to the little boy. Whenever Ryuji thought of it he couldn't help but swell with pride.

It wasn't until later that night, when he was alone in a side alley and clutching a gunshot wound to his chest, he realized that he had never told his son just how proud he was of him. As the world became dim and he felt himself go cold, Ryuji Zenigata knew that Koichi would make a great cop someday.

He just wished that he could be around to see it.

* * *

"Daisuke! What have you done?"

The sixteen year old boy looked up at his sister. The look in his eyes was as cold as steel, and it broke Miyu Jigen's heart. She found herself looking away from her big brother and to the dead man behind him.

"He was going to hurt Mom," Daisuke shrugged. "I hurt him first."

"But…" Miyu stammered. "He's dead, Daisuke! You killed him!"

The teenager just shrugged again and lit another cigarette. Miyu still couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. The man had cornered the siblings in the alley, ranting about something or another about their mother. That wasn't exactly uncommon; their mom is well known in the criminal gangs as a damned good spy and thief. It also wasn't a secret that she had decided to leave the business and is thinking of taking her secrets to the cops. She was smart enough to realize that they had to move to protect themselves. What she hadn't counted on was being followed halfway around the world to this little backwater town in New Jersey. But they were, and the man had found them as they were walking home from the convenient store. Before Miyu knew it there was a flash of a knife from under the man's coat, then a loud bang that still rang in her eardrums, and the next thing she knew he brother was holding a smoking gun over a dead man.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Miyu screamed. "And where the hell did you get a gun?"

"Found it," Daisuke simply said. "And if I hadn't wasted him we would be the ones lying dead in this alley and Mom would've been next."

Miyu couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sure, Daisuke had always had a bit of a cold approach to life, but this… The fact that her brother was a killer was one she just couldn't wrap her mind around. How natural it came to him too, as if it was something he did everyday…

Miyu found herself doubling-over with violent heaves. Her world spun as she felt her supper coming back up to haunt her.

"Miyu? You okay there?"

"Don't touch me!" Miyu jumped back from her brother's comforting hand on her back. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that Daisuke wouldn't hurt her. Still, she was terrified of him and of what he could do. "After everything Mom has done for us, this is what you become?"

"Well, someone has to make sure we're safe!" Daisuke yelled back at her. "How many people do you think Mom has pissed off? Rinaldi? Giannino? Hisakawa? Do you think any of them care who they kill to get to her? Dad's not around to protect us anymore because of them, Miyu! It's either kill or be killed, and I know which I want."

"Do you think that this is what Mom wants?" Miyu shot back. "She left Tokyo to get away from all this. What do you think she'll say when I tell her that her son is a killer?"

"If she thinks we can survive without defending ourselves then she's delusional!"

She didn't know what to say to that. Killer or not, Daisuke was still her brother and she still loved him, even if he wouldn't learn to let go of the past. He would become what they were running from to protect them. The thought terrified Miyu, but at the same time she couldn't see any other way around it.

Later that night she heard her mother and brother screaming at each other over Daisuke's actions. They said a lot of things that Miyu would rather not recall and even more she wish she'd never heard in the first place. Daisuke was in a lot deeper than she had originally thought and her mother truly did believe that they could run forever. She didn't know who was in the right, but when her mother told Daisuke to leave and don't come back, Miyu felt a piece of herself walk out that door with her brother.

* * *

"Where do you think you're going, boy?"

Seventeen year old Goemon stopped in his tracks. It was so early in the morning that it was still dark out, but the boy hadn't counted on his uncle being that light of a sleeper. Keiji Ishikawa had heard the light bumping of the teenager leaving, and had decided to investigate.

"I am going away, uncle," Goemon simple said. "It would be in your best interest to not try to stop me."

"I wasn't planning on it," Keiji shrugged. "But it would be advisable to tell me where you are going at this hour."

"And I have already given my answer. Away."

Keiji rolled his eyes. "You're just like that damn father of your's. Giving answers that aren't answers at all."

Goemon stiffened, but still wouldn't turn to face his uncle. Keiji knew that Goemon didn't have the highest opinion of him. Neither did most of the Ishikawa family, in fact. He had rejected the samurai life and become modernized. It made him the black sheep of the family, but it was what he had wanted. They never rejected him outright, but he was whispered about in non-approving tones.

"I need to perfect myself," Goemon said. "The only way I can do that is go away from the comforts of home."

"You know," Keiji said with a grin, "you said something like that when you were little. Something about the country life being boring and wanting to come with me to the city…"

"That is not what I mean!" Goemon finally spun around and glared at him.

"You may believe that," Keiji said with an appropriate waggle of the finger, "but deep down you know it's true. You may act all traditional on the surface, but deep down there's a part of you that's with the modern times."

"Shut up!" Goemon spat. Keiji knew that he had hit his target. Goemon only lost his patience when something hit too close to home for him. "This is not about that. This is about transcending my emotions and-"

"And perfecting yourself, yeah, you've said that already. But look at what you're doing, kid. You are not transcending anything. You're just running away from what and who you care about. Have you stopped to think about your friends and family?"

Goemon regained his composure, but Keiji could see that it was hanging on by only a thin thread. "I need to detach myself from all of them. Friendships and love are only hindrances."

"Now there's a load of crap," Keiji laughed. "You can't keep yourself from human contact forever, Goemon, especially if you go out into the city. You may believe that you need nobody now, but give it a few years. Either someone will worm their way into your heart or the loneliness will drive you nuts. For your sake, I hope it's the former."

Goemon didn't seem to know what to say to that. Off in the distance the morning birds started to sing their songs to herald in a new day. The sky was starting to turn from navy blue to the pale purple of the morning. It was showing all the signs of a beautiful day, but Keiji knew that this day would be hard for everyone.

Ah well. At least he tried. His conscious was clear.

"Look, kid. Go if you think that's what you really want. If you ever find yourself in a tough spot, you know where to find me. I'm not going to stand in the way of your parents coming to find you, but I won't help them either. Just send a postcard with a photo when I'm proven right, okay?"

Goemon stared at his uncle. The eyes were hard, but there was a spark of uncertainty in them. He didn't know if Goemon knew he did it or not, but Keiji saw his nephew give him the slightest of nods before turning around and going on his way.

* * *

Years later, when the five children had grown into four thieves and a cop, sometimes they look back on their own turning point and think, _what if…?_

Lupin the Third never dwells on it for long. He knows that he had made the right decision back then. He even knew it then when he had seen that small smile on his grandfather's face. People can't help but like him, despite him being a thief. He's a friend to the kind, and an enemy to the greedy and corrupt. Sure, he doesn't exactly "give to the poor" like Robin did, but he still likes to think that he's doing a public service when he helps to strip the violent thugs of their freedom.

And sometimes, when doing a particularly spectacular stunt, he still likes to make believe that he is Robin Hood swinging from the trees of Sherwood Forest.

Fujiko feels a swell of pride when she thinks about that night with her mother. That was the first step to her now lucrative thieving career, and has since then sucked up any and all knowledge her mother was willing to impart about using charm to get what you want as she grew up into a woman. Every little nuance of the male psyche, every little irresistible look and trick of the trade was the legacy Hitomi left for her daughter. While Fujiko's methods had turned both of the Mine women into wanted criminals (Fujiko more so than her mother, admittedly), it had also brought them closer and richer.

Every time she manages to swindle just a little more loot out of Lupin, she says a small thanks to her mother in the form of 15 percent of the resulting money. Her mother is living a life of luxury and comfort now, just as Fujiko had hoped she would give her mother all those years ago.

Inspector Zenigata always goes through the same emotions when he thinks about his father's death. His first thought is one of anger, both at himself and at his father. Why didn't he listen to him? Was there something more he could have done to stop his father from leaving that night? Or was his father just not strong enough? That train of thought always leads straight into sadness. Memories of the weeks following, of hoping that it was all a sick joke and that his father would walk in through the door at any time, feeling helpless and alone… When he thinks back to that time he's suddenly that eight year old boy again who wants nothing more than to see his father one last time.

The sadness fades away into fear, a paralyzing fear that he didn't live up to his father's expectations of him. Ryuji had caught his man, but had died in the process. Zenigata wonders if he is destined to go the same way, but knows it is unlikely as long as he's on Lupin's trail. He doesn't know if that is something his father would be glad of, or if that makes him a worse cop than his father. Sometimes that uncertainty eats away at him and keeps him up at night.

Jigen can't help but feel a pang of regret when he thinks about that night. He still promises himself that he'll track down his mother and sister and tell him that he's alright. He wishes that he could give his mother a hug and say that he doesn't blame her for what she did, and that he understands now, even if he may still not agree with it.

He wishes that he could tell Miyu that he is sorry for scaring her and for not telling her the truth about his secret training. He wishes that he could apologize for walking out that door without even saying goodbye to his little sister.

One day, he promises himself, one day he'll find them again and prove that he is a good man. One day he'll find them and tell them that he had stayed near their apartment for months and protected them when he was kicked out. One day he'll tell them that he misses them.

Until that day, though, he'll go on proving to himself that he is a good man, despite the gun and illegal stash of money.

Goemon remembers that talk with his uncle and he can't help but laugh a little at his younger self. He had been so sure back then that he neither needed nor wanted anyone with him. He remembers his teenage self saying that relationships and friendships just impede you, that it's better to stay detached.

Now here he is, fifteen years later and with the strongest group of friends he has ever known. Sometimes his love for them clouds his judgement and makes him blinded by emotion, but it's a small price to pay for their companionship. Even when opposing each other, the five of them have each other's backs in the end. The love between them all is still there, even if they don't see it sometimes.

For all of Lupin's stupid stunts, Fujiko's betrayals, Zenigata's fanaticism, and Jigen's dark past rearing its ugly head again and again, Goemon wouldn't trade it in for anything.

If that makes his younger self spit in rage for proving his uncle Keiji right, then so be it.

He even has the picture to send with his postcard.


End file.
